


In the Devil's Territory

by aeon_entwined



Category: Captain America (2011), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/aeon_entwined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Get too close to the fire, and you're gonna go up in flames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Devil's Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Set during an indeterminate amount of time between the 107th's liberation from the Hydra base and the tragic/horrible/awful train sequence.

It's not like this is the first time they've shared a tent during the span of the war. Hell, it's not like this is the first time they've shared a damn _bed_ before. (And if this isn't the first time he's thought about maybe making the sharing of the bed more comfortable, well ... nobody needs to know.)

But it's completely different because Steve is _massive_ this time around and there's barely room for the both of them despite the fact that the cot is the biggest one Philips could find to throw at them for the night. They've set up camp for two days, so it's only this one night. They can handle it.

Except he can't handle it.

It's getting increasingly awkward to keep his back to Steve so he doesn't accidentally end up rolling over and shoving his half erect cock against his friend's thigh.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the absurdity of the situation, carefully slipping his hands down so he can push the waistband of his pants down just enough to pull himself out, hissing once he's finally got skin-on-skin contact.

He shoves his free hand into his mouth, teeth digging painfully into the skin as he starts working himself. There's not much to ease the way besides his own spit and the precome leaking steadily from his cock, but that's alright. He can make do for one go.

It's not until a few minutes later that Bucky realizes the other half of the bed is moving a little. But Steve doesn't seem to be waking up. Or maybe that was Steve's way of saying _"what the hell"_ and being polite about it.

Either way, it's not like he's going to stop now. Bucky squeezes his fist around his cock, bits and pieces of a groan escaping around the hand he has shoved in his mouth. The cot's rocking a bit too, so he figures his stealth approach is steadily going out the window.

He's almost out of his mind with it when Bucky registers the warmth of a hand resting tentatively over the bend of his waist, the spot where his shirt's ridden up and his bare skin is flushed and overheated.

Bucky jolts and almost cringes forward, trying to curl into himself. _Not now, not now, no no no, Steve, no._

It's pretty clear Steve doesn't really have any idea how he's supposed to fit himself into the situation they've found themselves in, and Bucky can only pant harshly against the hand still in his mouth as he feels Steve turn over, the ridiculously broad span of his chest pressing firmly against Bucky's shoulder blades.

_Fuck._

Desperate and too far gone to care how weak it makes him, Bucky yanks his hand out of his mouth and reaches behind him, scrabbling for one of Steve's.

"Touch me," he whispers hoarsely, finally managing to capture his friend's (friend's? are they still just friends? even after all they've been through?) hand and bring it up underneath his shirt. "Steve, anywhere .. it doesn't matter .. touch me."

Steve shudders behind him, and Bucky honestly doesn't know why. He clenches his eyes shut, then stutters out a moan as Steve drags the roughened pads of his fingertips over his nipples, leaving him oversensitive and uncomfortably aware that Steve might not even want this.

He's got enough presence of mind to clench his fist again, stroking rough and erratic pulls up and down his cock, almost wanting it to be over just so he doesn't have to see the look on Steve's face.

Then, before he can even register the shift, Steve's pressing his hips firmly against Bucky's backside and _oh ... oh god._ Yes, that is definitely Steve's cock pressing up against the cleft of his ass and that was _entirely_ unexpected.

Bucky moans helplessly, trying to use any leverage he can to grind himself back against Steve and still drive himself forward into the tight circle of his fist. The inability to do both at the same time is absolutely maddening and he thinks he may very well go insane with it before this is over.

It's just this endless back-and-forth pattern of motion that he's slowly losing himself to. Steve's cock feels incredible pressed up against him, and he wonders vaguely how it might feel if they actually got to do this proper. Maybe they will. Once he's gotten Steve's virginal brain unbroken. (Now that's going to be quite a task.)

" _SteveSteveSteveSteveSteve_ ," Bucky chants it like it's the only word he knows, and he can feel Steve shaking against him, obviously being dragged along just as viciously as he is.

He _wants_ and now Steve _knows_ he wants. And Steve isn't running. He isn't cringing away in disgust. He's _here_.

" _Bucky_ ," Steve gasps suddenly against his ear, taking him completely by surprise. Bucky jerks forward, coming with a startled cry that somehow ends up muffled by the hand Steve doesn't have up his shirt. At least one of them still had the coherency to remember volume probably isn't a wise idea when the quarters are this close.

By the time he comes down, Bucky is limp and sated, completely at peace with the world contained in their singular tent.

Steve's still shivering against him, but it's lessened over the past few minutes.

"Hey," Bucky mumbles, barely managing to turn over and slide his arms around Steve's waist before they sort of collapse into each other. "'m here, alright. I've got you."


End file.
